


Try Your Best (And Don't Succeed)

by mckinlily



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura (Voltron) is a mess, Allura (Voltron)-centric, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Everyone is a mess but they're trying the best they can, F/M, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Grief/Mourning, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro is a Mess, set in season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mckinlily/pseuds/mckinlily
Summary: In a perfect world, Allura would have someone who understood what exactly it was like for her to lose her planet. Who would share her feelings of rage and betrayal when one of the paladins turned out to be Galra. Someone whogot it.But this is not a perfect world. Instead, all Allura has is a team that doesn’t get it, a universe that doesn’t care, and a co-leader who wants to help but who is fighting demons of his own.Is it possible to find healing anyway?





	Try Your Best (And Don't Succeed)

Allura didn’t hate Keith because he was _Galra_. The idea was ridiculous. She was a princess, after all, trained to handle all kinds of conflicts and differences. And with _grace_. She was working with Kolivan and the Blade, was she not?

No, Galra she could handle. Her problem with Keith lay in _Keith_.

She could have forgiven him, she thought, if he’d just apologized. If he’d come to them, appropriately shame-faced and had _asked_ for her forgiveness—But no, he just said his piece, blank and unfeeling, just expecting her to accept it. Well, too bad Keith-I-expect-the-universe-to-cater-to-me. Allura wasn’t some push over. As long as he refused to acknowledge her with any sort of decency, she refused to acknowledge _him._

It wasn’t as if it hurt the team. _Shiro_ was on Keith’s side.

(And maybe she was jealous there. Maybe she wanted Shiro solidly on her side instead of playing mediator. Maybe she saw the way Shiro reassured with Keith with just a look and she felt—)

Point was, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t kicking Keith out of the Castle, wasn’t pulling him off Voltron. She was perfectly civil to Keith. If her heart boiled over with hatred and anger every time she laid eyes on him, she had the diplomatic wherewithal not to let it show.

It was just that Keith was so… _Keith._ Cold and moody and stuck in his own head. And everyone swarmed around him. Poor _Keith_. Oh, we all need to be there for _Keith_. Darling baby Keith needs to be swaddled and protected and validated even though _he_ wasn’t an Earthling either. Why should he get all the pity? Just because he sulked around like some uncomfortable shadow in a ridiculous jacket—!

And he had known. The thought made Allura’s teeth grind together. He had _known._ When they were getting run down by Zarkon every other varga, when she and Keith had left the Castle together in that pod—he had _known_. He knew he was Galra, and he hadn’t bothered to tell any of them. Uncaring, secretive, selfish, unyielding—

“Princess?”

She jumped. She hadn’t expected anyone to find her on the bridge. (Didn’t except anyone to remember—)

It was easy to roll her shoulders back and put on a diplomatic smile. “Oh, hello, Shiro. I was just going through the records the Blade produced for us last night.” She quickly brought up the long, tedious list of schematics. “Checking if there’s anything missing—”

“There’s not,” said Shiro. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and pulled her hand down. Allura turned to look at him, frowning. Standing on her platform with Shiro on the floor, she was almost taller than him, but Shiro didn’t need height to make his presence felt. He was frowning, but his eyes softened as he looked at her. “I went through it last night. It’s all in order.”

Allura glanced at the records, more than could covered in only a few varga. Recalled seeing Shiro busy with the paladins well into the Castle night cycle yesterday. But no one talked about how Shiro didn’t sleep, just like they didn’t talk about so many other things.

“Oh, excellent. Thank you, Shiro. In that case, I can turn my attention to—”

“Princess.”

She didn’t like that voice. Not right now, not directed at her. Shiro stepped onto the platform and swiped away the screens. He turned to face her, eyes deadly serious.

“I think we should talk.”

Allura folded her hands in front of her. “Why of course, Shiro. What would you like to discuss?”

Allura was a master of the polite mask, but she suspected Shiro was better. He saw right through her, in any case. With a touch on her elbow, he guided her to the edge of the platform.

“Let’s sit.”

So they sat, a reasonable distance between them, Allura felt. Still a little closer than they would be if the others were around. With most the lights on the bridge out, there were only the stars spread in every direction. And to Allura, who had spent half her life traveling among them, there now seemed to be far too many. Thousands, trillions. Tiny, white, impersonal. _Not yours. Never yours._

She looked back at Shiro.

He had tucked one leg under him, the other extended in front, and he leaned back slightly on his hands. A deliberately relaxed posture. Allura noticed and chose to ignore it. Instead she pushed her feet to her side, forcing her legs to lay flat. She felt Shiro gaze on her and pushed her eyes to the stars.

“Princess,” said Shiro quietly. “Are you all right?”

What a silly questions. Allura pulled out a ready-made smile, confident and shallow. “I am perfectly well.”

Shiro sighed, expression wry. “All right, then. _Allura_ , how are you really?”

A small shiver ran down her spine when he said her name, but she tried to keep up the mask. “I am well. Our plan with the Blade is—”

“Not about the mission,” interrupted Shiro.

Allura sent him the beginnings of a glare. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Shiro ran a hand through his hair. “Princess, please,” he said, a tad more frustrated than he normally let on. “It’s okay if you’re not all right, but please stop acting as if _nothing_ has you upset.”

“And what is there for me to be upset about?” countered Allura. She forced her knees down and gathered her hands in her lap, her back ramrod straight. “We are moving forward in the fight against Zarkon, are we not?”

“I know you didn’t like the idea of working with Galra,” suggested Shiro.

“But that’s fine, isn’t it?” Allura replied, quick and sharp. “After all, the Blade are our allies. They have provided us with invaluable information. We would be fools not to work with them.”

Her clipped tone wasn’t enough to cover the bitterness. Allura ran her tongue along the back of her teeth. It was there, just on the tip of her tongue—But _no._ She refused to let that out.

Shiro frowned at her. “The Blade are important allies, yes. But you don’t have to like someone to work with them.”

Several responses flitted through Allura’s head, and finally she settled on an irritated huff. “Then why is this something we are talking about?”

“Princess,” said Shiro carefully. “If you are upset…”

“I can’t imagine what I could possibly be upset about!”

Apparently Shiro had had enough.

“Allura,” he said, not angry but leaving no room for argument either. “You still don’t like that we’re working with Galra. And you particularly have a problem with Keith.”

“Does it _matter_?” hissed Allura.

" _Yes,_ ” said Shiro. “We’re a team. We can’t work effectively if—”

“Oh, _we’re_ a team. No, Shiro. You and the paladins are a team. And you seem to be working perfectly well together to me.”

“You’re just as much a part of this as we are,” argued Shiro. “More, even. You’ve lost more than any of us.”

“You finally remembered that, did you?” Allura snapped.

It was sharp and vicious and at first she regretted it, but—No. _No_. She was sick of being proper, of holding herself together, of being in quietly control while no one cared. Her planet, her entire people were _gone_. Did none of them remember that? Or did it not count because that was ten thousand years ago and compassion has an expiration date?

“Allura,” said Shiro. “I understand this is hard for you—”

“You understand _nothing_ ,” snarled Allura. She curled her hands into fists between her knees because otherwise she would be sorely tempted to throw Shiro bodily off the bridge. But she had been trained better than that. And she did, generally, hold great respect for Shiro.

Even if now he was being insufferable. “I know you’ve been hurt by the Galra,” he tried again. “We all have.”

“Oh yes,” sneered Allura. “You’ve all be hurt just as I have.”

Shiro went pale. “That’s not what I—”

“Do you remember what I have been through?” Allura hissed. She leaned across the space between them, nostrils flaring, the marks on her cheeks glowing hot. “I have lost my father. Twice. I have lost my people. I have lost my planet. Because the Galra—not just Zarkon! _All_ of them—turned on my people and destroyed them!

“Do you know what that’s like?” She was on her feet, ready to fight. Her voice rose to a shout. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up one day, on the other side of the universe, and find out it’s all _gone!_ Everything you knew, everything you loved, gone! Vanished. Ceased to exist. Because some _quiznacking_ species—!” She choked on the need to breathe and spluttered on impatiently.

“Do you have ANY idea what that’s like? Do you have the faintest inkling? To be stolen from your planet? To have to realize you can’t go back? You AREN’T ABLE to go back? And to be so alone in this universe that _NO ONE CARES THAT YOU’RE HURT?!_ ”

Allura stopped there. Heat spiked like needles in her cheeks, and the crack of her voice made her voice hurt. Something massive and sloshing slammed against her ribs, dislodging her heart. Her eyes sought out Shiro, half hoping she had managed to puncture him, and he—

Shiro wasn’t all there anymore. His eyes were glazed over, too wide, looking some three feet to her right.

Oh no.

Allura’s anger deflated in an instant. Oh no. Shiro wasn’t there anymore, and unless she was reading it wrong, he was on the verge of something very bad. She froze with uncertainty. Would touch bring him back or set him off? Shiro kept hovering in that in between state between fear and something else, eyes too wide, unseeing. Besides the faint twitch of his fingers and the jump of his jaw, he remained perfectly, eerily still.

Allura didn’t know what to do. She went over the last few moments desperately, trying to guess what this was, where it had come from, and—

Her heart fell through the ship’s hull.

Oh no.

Shiro was blinking now, but he still wasn’t all there, his expression unmistakably haunted.

Oh **_no_** _._

_Do you know what it’s like to be taken from your planet?_ she’d asked. _Do you know what it’s like to have no one care about your hurts? To be alone?_

Do you know what it’s like to be abducted by aliens, she could have said. To be made a prisoner in an empire you didn’t even know existed and separated from everything and everyone you knew. To have people care so little about you that your pain is their _entertainment._

Her stomach wreathed, dark, slimy tendrils clawing their way up, catching in the back of her throat. She needed to say something, take it back, make it better, but the words wouldn’t come and with each passing moment, Shiro was pulling himself back together, shoving it back deep inside him no matter how much it hurt her to see him do it. She needed to make him stop, she needed to _say something_ , but she couldn’t. She was still reeling. And Shiro got there first.

“Princess.” His voice sounded hoarse, shaken. He paused, pushed on. “I-I know I will never know what you’ve been through. I can’t even imagine…”

His mouth said one thing, but his eyes said another. He knew. Everything in Allura’s brain was fuzzy with that one fact. He _knew_ , and it was shaking her world to the core.

(Allura knew there were parts of Shiro she would never fully understand. There were horrors in his past she couldn’t conceive of much less imagine surviving. But she never guessed he knew _this._ )

But of _course_ he did. She felt a fool for not realizing it. He’d spent a year—a _year_ — And who was there for him? To be his friend. To even…offer a smile. Any hint of kindness. Had there been _anyone?_

She rather suspected there was not. Shiro’s knack for building strength in even the weakest and most hopeless was nigh uncanny. It would not have gone unnoticed in the prisons—nor ignored.

“I remember…” Shiro stopped. Started again. His voice was rough. “But Earth was still around. Even if I was never going to see them again, they—I _had_ to believe that. Even if I wasn’t going to make it back—”

She wished he’d stop talking. That he’d stop speaking in that quiet tone, like it didn’t matter. Because Allura didn’t understand most of what Shiro had been through, but she understood this. To think _this_ —this emptiness, this weight, this yearning that was scraping at the inside of her ribs and sucking a massive sinkhole in her stomach—to realize _this_ had been part of Shiro’s reality—

And still, he kept talking. “So I can’t really relate—”

“Stop.”

Allura finally found her voice again but not the words to go with it. She sank beside Shiro, gripped his forearm.

“Stop. Just.”

Of all the things she and Shiro had in common, she had never wanted it to be the same ache of loneliness.

Shiro said nothing. The tight set of his shoulders suggested he might even be a little terrified. And that was fine. Because Allura didn’t want sympathetic, team leader Shiro. For just a moment, she held onto his arm—the artificial one, the one that had been taken from him—and let herself absorb, as she had never been able to before, just _part_ of what all Shiro had been through.

“How did you do it?” she asked. Her voice scratched her throat. Realizing Shiro wouldn’t know what she was talking about, she pushed on. “ _You_ were taken from your people. You were hurt and completely alone. How did you go on?”

“Oh,” said Shiro. For a time that was all he said. He looked away, darkness seeping into his expression. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember. I just… I didn’t want to die there. I—I wanted to _mean_ something, stupid as it was. So I couldn’t stop.”

A very Shiro answer. And a very Black Paladin response. Allura squeezed his arm. “You’re incredible.”

But Shiro shook his head, not hearing her.

Perhaps this was where she was supposed to say something. Something comforting, but Allura’s heart was hurting from too many things. She squeezed Shiro’s arm again though he couldn’t feel it. Or maybe he could. She’d never bothered to ask. Just like so many other things she didn’t know…

The lights on the paladin chairs pulsed slightly, the only lights on the bridge, and then beyond them—Space. Huge. Dark. Littered. Empty. A thousand little pinpricks of light, rearranged in a pattern that Allura no longer recognized.

“It hurts,” she said.

Shiro’s jaw worked, and he nodded.

“Did you—Were you ever angry?”

That got her a snort of bitter humor. “Almost always. Whenever I wasn’t too exhausted or terrified not to be.” His smile turned into a nasty grimace. “It’s what kept me alive.”

She had never heard Shiro sound so bitter, and Allura, wrong as it was, lapped it up. _Yes_. _It’s not just me. You feel it, too._

Except…

“There is something I don’t understand,” said Allura. She removed her hands from Shiro’s arm and folded them neatly between her thighs. “May I ask you a personal question?”

Shiro blinked. “Of course.”

“How can you forgive them?” She tried to remain calm, but her voice grew faster and harsher as she spoke. “After all they’ve done. To you. To the universe. How can you turn to them and work with them with a smile on your face like nothing ever happened?”

“These aren’t the Galra who hurt me,” said Shiro.

“Of course they aren’t! But they still could have done something! They’ve had ten _thousand_ years—”

Shiro sighed. “It isn’t the same for me as it is for you.”

“How,” demanded Allura.

Shiro didn’t answer at first. He leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands hang between them. “It’s not… You don’t have the same connection with them. I mean—” He shook his head quickly. “What they did, it was terrible. It was personal to you. But they didn’t do it to _you_. You get to be separate from them. I—”

“Are _not_ a part of them.”

Shiro’s smile twisted. “Are you so sure?”

Allura boggled, nonplused. “You are a Paladin of Voltron. Nothing they did could—”

“They took _me_ ,” interrupted Shiro. “Allura, they took _from_ you, but they _took_ me. Don’t you understand?”

Allura didn’t, and she had a feeling she wouldn’t like it if she did.

Shiro’s natural hand balled on his thigh, the knuckles turning white.

“They threw me into _their_ prison, in _their_ empire, in _their_ arena. I was part of them.”

“You were their prisoner,” Allura corrected. “You are not there anymore. You escaped.”

But Shiro was shaking his head. “No. Allura, I was one of them. I fought for them. I _killed_ for them.”

“Because you had no choice!”

“There is always a choice!” snapped Shiro. “They could have thrown me in those pits and forced me to fight, but they could make me good at it! And I was _popular._ The gladiators are everything the Galra aspire to, and I was their _Champion._ They _liked_ me. I _made them_   _like me!_ ”

Shiro doubled over, hands gripping the back of his head.

“They liked me. I made them do it. I chose that.”

“Shiro,” mumbled Allura. Her hands fluttered uselessly. She didn’t know what to do. How to help. “Shiro, stop. That wasn’t you.”

“But it was,” said Shiro. “That didn’t come out of nowhere. It was part of me, and now—I know it hasn’t gone away. I know it’s still there inside of me. I can _feel_ it. I’m not who I used to be. I’m—I _broke_.”

“No, no, no. _Shiro._ ” Allura grabbed his Galra hand, pulling it into her lap, and wrapping it in both hands. She had no idea if she was helping or hurting, but she couldn’t _not_ anymore. She wrapped her arms protectively around his, feeling his fingers twitch against her wrist. “Shiro, you are _not_ broken.”

Shiro didn’t listen to her. Or maybe what she said wasn’t right. Allura had never been much good at comforting beyond the stock phrases she mimicked from her father. They weren’t enough now, and Allura was at a lost of what else to say. Instead she was stuck cradling Shiro’s metal arm, shoulder pressed up against Shiro’s side, wishing she could somehow take away this pain of his that she couldn’t even comprehend.

Shiro scrubbed his natural hand over his face. His breath shook a little, and Allura had the tact to pretend she didn’t notice while he pulled himself back together.

Finally, Shiro looked back at her looking tired and ragged and simultaneously older and so much younger than she had ever seen him. “So do you understand, maybe, why I was so desperate to prove they weren’t all against us?”

Oh.

It—It wasn’t what Allura wanted to hear at _all_. She wanted someone who knew her pain, who would share her perspective. She wanted her feelings validated, darn it! But Shiro was right. Their situations weren’t the same. And could she fault him on that?

Shiro was as tensing with every tick Allura went without answering. She felt his shoulder curl inward and the line of tension that traveled through his body.

“I understand,” she said. Because she did. Because she understood that’s what he needed to hear. Because she couldn’t bear to make Shiro suffer.

Shiro looked away, still tense and miserable. Allura had no idea how to help, so she did the only thing that made _her_ feel better, pressing closer to his side, nudging her knee against his thigh so that she could feel his body heat bleeding through the clothing. His arm stayed cradled in her lap.

“Are you sure you’re…comfortable?” said Shiro. His voice was still rough but trying to be okay. “The arm’s a good thirty pounds of metal.”

“I don’t know what these ‘pounds’ are,” said Allura. She rubbed his knuckles, only to look up. “Unless you want me to stop?”

“No. It’s—it’s fine.” To prove his point, Shiro turned his hand in her grip, pressing his palm against hers. Allura immediately curled both her hands around it. She rubbed a thumb against the smooth metal. _Galra_ , she thought. _Terrific weapon_. And yet Shiro had never made her felt anything but safe around it.

Shiro was watching her with a slightly pinched expression on his face.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, please tell me,” said Allura.

“No. No, it’s not that.” Shiro breathed then abruptly let his shoulders sag, leaning _ever so slightly_ against Allura. “I guess I’m just not used to being touched.”

He relaxed just a fraction more against her. Touched and more than a little honored by the vulnerability, Allura pressed her cheek to his shoulder. Felt him tense at the contact for a moment and then relax again.

They really were just so lost, weren’t they? Two, tiny, broken pieces trying desperately to pull it all together for one more day. And then another. And the next. Each day clinging to the hope that maybe, _someday_ , tomorrow would be easier.

“This…” Shiro coughed awkwardly. “This is not exactly how I pictured this conversation going.”

“Disappointed?” said Allura.

Shiro squeezed her fingers lightly. “Not exactly.”

His voice had taken on that timber of quiet humor that sometimes hid beneath the surface. He smiled at her.

“You’re so impressive, Princess.”

Allura snorted into his shoulder. The noise became a little wet at the end, hitting too close to home.

“I really don’t feel like it right now.”

Shiro’s thumb rubbed gently over her fingers. “I know. It’s hard to feel strong all the time,” he said. “But you really are.”

He thought for a long moment, seeming to consider something before saying hesitantly, “You know, I might understand what you’re going through a little better than you think. On Earth—well, we haven’t exactly been good to each other all the time. Or fair. There’s a lot of hurt that comes from that. Hunk and Lance would probably understand, too. But trust me when I say the way that you have accepted and worked with the Blade is nothing short of incredible.”

“We need them,” said Allura, repeating the mantra she had been playing incessantly in her head.

“Doesn’t make it easy,” said Shiro.

Allura huffed. “I was too harsh at first. I almost did not let us go to them.”

“And I was too trusting,” said Shiro. “I wanted us to have allies too badly. I wanted to make sure—” Shiro coughed and didn’t finish his sentence. “We balanced each other.”

Allura lifted her head from Shiro’s shoulder. “You really think so?”

Shiro let out a long, heavy sigh. “Allura, I know I don’t always think rationally. The paladins are too young or—They’re relying on me. I can’t let them know. I’m trusting you to catch me when I’m wrong.”

Allura thought for moment, then squeezed his hand. “Me, too, Shiro. I hope you’ll look out for me when I’m wrong, too.”

Shiro hesitated, and just before he opened his mouth, Allura realized she knew exactly where this was going.

“Keith.”

Immediately all the peace and acceptance and tenuous understanding they had reached flooded out of her. Allura pulled her hands out of Shiro’s and scowled. “That’s Keith’s problem, not mine.”

“Really?” said Shiro, and it was one of those rare times she couldn’t tell if he was being skeptical or sincere. It irritated her either way.

“If he would just _apologize—_!”

“No.”

Allura lifted her head to glare at Shiro. He met her stare for stare back.

“No,” said Shiro firmly, again. “I get where you’re coming from, but _no_. Keith has been made to believe he’s wrong for far too many things in his life. I will not make him apologize for something that is beyond his control.”

“He lied to us! He lied to all of us! When Zarkon was tracking us down every varga—”

“Keith was doing what he thought was best. He didn’t mean to—”

“You are blind to him!” Allura shouted. “Anything he does, you’ll defend him! No matter what!”

Shiro’s eyes flashed, deadly serious. “Yeah. I will, all right?” he said. “I’ll defend that kid until my dying breath because he hasn’t got anyone else. Because I promised I wouldn’t leave him. Because—Hell, Allura, because the fact that when Keith looks at me, he still recognizes something of who I was before all this is the only thing that keeps me going some days!”

He exhaled rapidly.

“I’m…sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear.”

“No, it’s not,” admitted Allura, her hands twisting in her lap. “I…”

Maybe this was where she spoke out, where she admitted to Shiro how much he meant to her, how much she needed his support. Where she asked, no begged, for the comfort she so desperately wanted.

But before the words could make their way to her mouth, they were interrupted.

“Shiro?”

_Keith_. He must have just arrived, but the way he stood there with his arms folded over his chest made it seem like he had just been there listening the entire time.

Allura’s heart boiled over at the sight of him. He did not belong here. And he certainly did not belong like _this,_ sharp and unyielding, refusing to bend or adapt. He was like an xznly among kanmuriel, out of place and imposing but thinking he could fit by sheer force of will.

Keith did not look at her though the fact that he was _not_ could not have been more obvious. Instead, he focused his attention on Shiro with terrific intensity.

Shiro smiled, ignoring the tension. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

Keith almost looked at Allura then pointedly did not. “I thought you were going to spar with me,” he said, voice flat. Not a whine. No, not from brooding Keith. 

Allura looked away, scowling at the stars. It was not her place to get between Shiro and Keith. However much she might want to, however much she _didn’t understand it_ , she could not and she would be an awful, horrible person if she did.

The soft touch on her shoulder was entirely unexpected. Allura only just managed not to jump.

“Would you like me to stay?”

Shiro was looking at her, _just_ her, his eyes so soft and so kind.

Allura’s gaze flicked quickly to Keith. Was that what Shiro was offering? To choose her?

“I am fine,” she said automatically.

Shiro raised his eyebrows. And yes, she was lying, but whatever words of honestly she had weren’t going to said in front of _Keith_. She pulled her shoulders back, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

“I am perfectly capable of handling this on my own,” she said a bit sharply.

“Of course,” agreed Shiro. “But I’d be happy to help.”

Keith coughed. “You don’t—I mean, we could do it another time.” He stared sullenly at the floor.

Allura scoffed. “You would let me take Shiro for the rest of the afternoon?”

Keith’s head snapped up, and his eyes went wide. This…might have been the first time she had directly addressed him since he announced he was Galra. She saw him dart a panicked glance at Shiro.

“I, um, yeah? He’s the Black Paladin?”

Shiro slid in gracefully, just like he and Keith were tag teaming like they did in battle. “Anything you need from me, I’m here, Princess.”

Something cracked just a little in Allura’s chest. She had tried to build it back up, keep it locked, but now her attention flickered back to Keith whose shoulders were so high up his face was nearly buried in the collar of his ridiculous jacket. _Defensive posture_ , part of her brain said unbidden. _Smaller target._ And—

A soft squeeze to her shoulder. “Princess?”

—and it _hurt_. She didn’t want to feel this. She didn’t have _enough_ to deal with this. But the crack was there, and she couldn’t figure out how glue it back together.

Allura forced on a bright smile. “Go have fun, Shiro. All work isn’t good for you.”

“The same could be said for you,” argued Shiro with a stubborn set of his jaw.

Oh, of all the things—!

“I am absolutely fine, Shiro,” she just managed not to growl. “My _feelings_ or otherwise, I promise I am perfectly capable of running this team and this ship!”

Shiro looked surprised. “I’ve never doubted that.” He considered her for a moment—and then smiled with that kind of unarming sincerity that only Shiro could manage. “I have full confidence in you, Princess.”

And that crack in her chest? The one she had been so desperately trying to hold together? It outright _shattered_. She looked into Shiro’s eyes and saw not understanding but _faith._  

Allura’s mouth popped open in a soft, silent “oh.” With a final squeeze to her shoulder, Shiro stood. He walked over to Keith, and this time Allura allowed herself to see how Keith leaned into Shiro’s touch, the desperation behind his defenses.

Keith didn’t look Galra. He looked young and lost and floundering. Just like she was.

“Shiro!”

He and Keith stopped just before the door. Allura stood up, her hands folded gently in front of her.

“I— _Thank_ you.”

Shiro looked ready to respond, but she cut him off with a shake of her head and a smile.

“I’ll see you both at dinner.”

Keith outright stared at her. Shiro, however, was looking at her with a kind of softness that made her insides feel melty. Cheeks hot, Allura looked down and turned back to the counsel, listening for the soft tread of their footsteps as they left.

_I have full confidence in you_ _, Princess._ From anyone else it could be manipulative— _full confidence that you will do what I want—_ but from Shiro it felt different. Like faith. Trust. That belief in the very best of her even when she wanted nothing to do with it.

In the hallway, she heard the murmur of voices. Keith sounded worried (always worried, furious, anxious). Part of her was certain they were talking about her. Judging her. Picking apart her actions and finding them wanting—

Keith’s voice suddenly rose to a pitch she could understand. “—said you were fine even when you were dying of a glowing alien wound!”

“Now that’s not true. I distinctly remember making jokes about my impending death.”

“That’s not better, Shiro!”

Or…

Perhaps not.

Allura wrapped her arms around her middle. Her heart felt bruised and battered and aching. Flickering, like all the stars that surrounded her. But beating. She was awake again, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be for quite some time.

_I have full confidence in you_ _, Princess._

She wasn’t ready for forgiveness. Not yet. It was still too sharp, too new. Letting go meant losing too much. It meant that nothing she—not _anyone_ could give back what she’d lost. It was well and truly _gone._ And she couldn’t—didn’t—

Not yet.

But maybe someday. She could picture herself, finding the strength and the courage to let go. Not today. Not tomorrow. But…someday.

Maybe a little sooner rather than later.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading if you've gotten this far!! If you enjoyed this, please let me know with your kudos and comments <3
> 
> Also, I would feel remiss if I didn't mention Coran, who definitely never gets enough credit. So why isn't he mentioned here? I figure there are a few things going on ~~besides shipper goggles~~. 
> 
> One is that, like many of us tend to do with our parents, Allura just takes his support for granted. Of course, he's going be there, it's the baseline, there's nothing special about it. There other is that because Coran isn't reacting to Keith being Galra the same way, I think Allura feels a bit betrayed by him. Basically an idea of if you loved Altea as much as I do, then why doesn't this hurt you the same way? And even as Coran is supporting Allura the best he can, he's still only one person.
> 
> The net result is that Allura still feels alone and deeply misunderstood by the vast majority of people she's around in spite of all Coran does.
> 
> ...Or at least, she did. I think she's doing a little better now.


End file.
